


Eidolons and Ghosts

by NightmareAmpersand



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Illness, Mind Manipulation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6036892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareAmpersand/pseuds/NightmareAmpersand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gun from the Hive that enjoys killing its former masters...nothing bad could come of this, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eidolons and Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Destiny is owned by Bungie, as is everything that they have put into the game. The personalities of the characters are the only things I claim in this story.
> 
> Also, since this takes place before TTK, you'll have to imagine that it's Dinkle-bot speaking rather than North-bot.

That morning dawned crisp and clear, not a cloud in the sky over the Tower or the Traveler. It was a summer day, thought that had little meaning in relation to the weather they would see at the Tower. For that matter, the weather at the Tower had little meaning to the citizens and Guardians who called it home. Few people (well, relatively few in ratio to the Guardians) remained at the Tower full-time. The Vanguards would occasionally leave on missions of their own. The vendors would leave to gather materials that couldn’t wait or couldn’t be trusted for a random pickup on one of the planetside beacons. The ‘normal’ citizens would leave (with Guardians, always with Guardians) to help with various projects, like construction or salvaging. Even the heads of the three Guilds left every once in a while to ‘participate in the Crucible.’ She was skeptical on that point only because she’d caught the three of them returning late one night while she was hiding in her favorite perch in Banshee’s tree. Lakshmi was giggling...actually giggling...as she escorted Arach Jalaal and Executor Hideo, who were both laughing and seemed to have had a few drinks, to their respective places. In fact, the only one who’d never left was the Speaker. Today, however, she would join the ranks of those not leaving that day...and Zeph fully resented it.

Late last evening, she and her two housemates, Ignis and Duke, had decided to spend the next day together to straighten out a few things that needed to be done. The plan was to help each other catch up on some bounties for Xander (and for the extra Glimmer it would provide them), then to hunt down a disciple of Crota that was hiding in the Lunar Complex in the Cosmodrome, and to possibly take care of a training exercise the Vanguards had set up, imposing a higher level of difficulty and restrictive conditions on the fight against Phogoth. It would be a full day but well worth it. Nature, however, had something else in store. Instead of waking up full of energy and looking forward to a day with her friends, Zeph had woken up with a scratchy throat, barking cough, and a fever. At first she refused to believe she was sick, as most diseases had been wiped out during the Golden Age, and had suited up as usual. Ignis and Duke had taken one look at her and immediately told her she wasn’t going anywhere that day, and she had simply been too tired to protest. Ignis banished Duke from the apartment for a time while she helped Zeph undress (because battle gear was rather difficult to get off if your hands and brain weren’t coordinating too well), get a cool shower, and finally put her back to bed. Zeph had fallen asleep again before Ignis even left the room.

She woke up much later feeling marginally better but nowhere near combat ready. A glance out of the window showed it was late afternoon, and a glance at Ghost sitting on her bedside table showed that her friends hadn’t returned. She sat up, alerting Ghost, and he rose so that he was eye level with her.

“You’re finally awake,” he stated bluntly. He was usually apathetic, though not unfeeling, and she knew that he was worried when he kept a vigil beside her.

“Ignis and Duke...” Her voice was merely a croak and it hurt to speak. Fortunately, Ghost was used to her saying very little. 

“They completed several bounties and were joined by Mokir afterwards.” Mokir (or Sir Mokir as they liked to call him and he steadfastly disliked being called) was another friend of theirs, a Sunsinger Warlock. He didn’t often join them on outings, preferring to limit his time with them to social outings on the Tower, but on days when one of them was absent he certainly didn’t mind going along for the ride. “I believe they are now attempting to survive the Vanguard’s Nightfall Strike,” Ghost continued.

“Right...” That was the run she was supposed to attempt with them that day. Now she may as well have missed it for the week. Though she was certain they would run through it again if she asked, she wouldn’t feel right making them suffer the difficult challenge again just for her. She often felt like she couldn’t carry her own weight with them on the more challenging fights and usually resorted to sniping and reviving. What good was that when she couldn’t make the battle progress faster or even hold out when she was the only one left?

“I spoke with Cayde-6 earlier,” Ghost continued, seeming oblivious to her mental torture. “Eva Lavante still had a supply of medicine from some time ago. I was able to get the right kind and dosage for you. You should take some now and some more later, after you eat.” He nodded to two packets of folded paper on the bedside table which she presumed held the medicine he went to the trouble of getting for her.

“Thank you, Ghost,” she said sincerely. Many of the non-Guardians didn’t understand the ghosts and thought of them as automations, an unfeeling machine. Although no one could get and actual reading on what they were, the Guardians knew they were as much machines as Exos were. They felt, had distinct personalities, and they bonded closely with the Guardians they chose. Hers was...odd...but so was she. They were a good match. She quickly took one packet with its bitter powder and downed it with water before sitting down at her desk (their desk, technically, but she used it the most) with little idea on what she wanted to do. She wasn’t tired enough to go back to sleep, but she had little energy for anything else. So she decided on some busywork, something she couldn’t screw up too bad. Reaching out from the desk she keyed their personal vault one-handed and pulled out one of her most recent guns to work on. So long as it wasn’t one of her precious scout or sniper rifles, she could work on it with little worry.

She put an auto rifle on the desk, one that had no earthly model whose casing shone with an oily sheen. This was a rather recent acquisition, one she’d not gotten from an engram or from Banshee’s stock. It dropped one day from one of the many Blades of Crota that had been popping up lately; this particular one had dropped from one she fought in the Mothyards. Ignis had gotten one sometime earlier than she had. She’d called it a ‘Husk of the Pit’ and told her that it enjoyed killing Hive. She hadn’t corrected her friend then...after all, it hadn’t been the first time she’d attributed sentient desires to truly inanimate objects...but had been confused by the wording. After taking it with her on one of her patrols on the Moon, her confusion had been replaced with unease. She’d swapped it out when she entered the catacombs under the surface of the Moon, deciding to give Ignis’s advice at least one try. It was only after going into one of the connecting tunnels, fresh from killing acolytes, wizards, a mass of thralls, and a shrieker, that she realized something was different, and even then it was only after Ghost’s observation that she should sit down for a moment when her biosigns went haywire. Ignis had been right...it really enjoyed killing Hive. Moreover, it seemed to have forged some connection with her during use and had transferred that enjoyment to her. She was...excited; there was really no other word for it. Had either of her companions been with her she would have shamelessly orbited them both out to one of their ships for some quick privacy...in retrospect, it was probably a very good thing that she had decided to go solo for a while. She’d quickly switched out for her familiar scout rifle afterwards to finish her patrol, and hand one back to the Tower immediately afterwards. The experience unnerved her and she resolved to not use it again...at least until she could talk to Ignis about it, maybe Eris...but she did. It was guiltily and left her both excited and disgusted, but the sensation was pleasant, almost addicting. Whenever they faced Hive she would switch it out, as would Ignis, and it got to the point where Duke complained that he didn’t have one. Privately she was glad...if it affected her so strongly, she couldn’t imagine how badly the testosterone-fuled Titan would react...but outwardly said nothing. She’d noticed that Ghost was distinctly unhappy with the auto rifle, though, as if he resented it.

Realizing she’d only started at the gone for the past ten minutes she forced herself to move, pulling out a precision toolkit and beginning some minor adjustments to the gun. At first she’d intended to try and repair the casing with her next adjustments...appearance was important to her, and the Husk had been dilapidated, riddled with pockmarks and some kind of rust. Recently, however, it had changed. The outside casing had gained a sort of iridescent sheen, like an oxidized one-cent piece she’d found in the Cosmodrome one day. More than that, the gun itself was slightly different, more powerful, able to kill anything with relative ease. It even seemed to fit to her hands and her stance better, as if it adjusted itself for her preference of scout rifles. Had it been a living thing, Zeph would even have said it evolved. 

Well, why shouldn’t it?

The thought came unbidden and made her hands pause briefly in their work. She’d been thinking all this time about Exos and ghosts not being machines. Why would this be different. It wasn’t of Earth or the Reef or the Traveler. It had come from the Hive, and enemy that seemed to incorporate organics into everything they used. What would stop this weapon from being organic too? For that matter, what would stop it from being sentient?

This thought had her stop her work completely, setting down her tools carefully and resting one hand on the rifle. A sentient weapon...supposedly the last time humans had such a concept the Exos had been created. Their technology was lost to time, but certainly if humans had come up with and executed such a concept then it was even more likely another race had too. After all, the Vex...but this was Hive, not Vex. Organic, not mechanic. Sentience was not limited between them, she knew, but the very idea that something could speak and respond intelligently to her thoughts and desires was both exciting and chilling. Perhaps it was her illness or the medicine she took to combat it, but she was lulled into a state of curious calm, wanting to try to communicate with her weapon without the inhibition of feeling silly. Nothing specific flitted across her thoughts as she concentrated on the weapon, her hand remaining as a physical connection, just vague curiosities as to what it was and what it thought of her. She already knew what it liked...that realization still brought an embarrassed flush to her cheeks...so perhaps it was better to stay basic. Introductions, as it were.

_Eidolon_

The word was pulled from nowhere and it startled her enough to pull her hand back from the weapon. Eidolon...she’d heard the word before, but it had been archaic even in her first life centuries ago. Her mind was still muddled from illness and she struggled to put meaning to the word. She was on the verge of asking Ghost but something made her hesitate. He had a distinct dislike of the weapon and she knew he would know that her question was in relation to that same weapon. It turned out that her thinking of him provided the spark her brain needed, though. Eidolon: a ghost, apparition, or image, something flimsy and half-there, half-not. Now the question became whether it was describing itself or her. Trembling slightly, she replaced her hand on the casing and felt the instant spark of reconnection. Closing her eyes she concentrated once again, this time trying to direct her thoughts towards her question. This proved difficult, for as soon as they reconnected her thoughts scattered several different ways. Eventually another thought formed, this one again not from her.

_Ally. Your Ally._

Ally? Yes, of course they were. She used it with little hesitation, allowed it to stay near her when she went out. But what was it?

_Ally. Eidolon..._

“Zeph!” That voice came from outside, and she vaguely recognized it as a crisp command from Ghost, a tone he rarely used. She was startled enough to break connection again, feeling a little annoyed and ashamed.

“Yes, Ghost?” Her voice was a croak once again and her head swam. She worried a little, since she hadn’t felt that ill before.

“Your symptoms are back and your temperature is back up. You need more rest.” His voice could be considered condescending, but she knew he used that when she didn’t listen otherwise. As usual, she obeyed without question, standing and replacing the auto rifle in the vault before stumbling to her bed. She covered herself with a sheet as Ghost settled on the bedside table once again, taking up his spot for a vigil. She’d just closed her eyes when she heard him muttering in a tone he used when he thought she couldn’t hear. “Can’t let that thing get inside your head anymore...doesn’t belong there.”

Guardians and ghosts were close in a way few understood, even the Guardians and ghosts themselves. Despite the misleading name, the ghosts were very tangible and so was the symbiotic link they shared. Zeph understood this just a little bit more as she reached to the bedside stand, scooping up Ghost without opening her eyes, and cuddled him close as she dozed off with a small smile.

Zeph was woken up much later, confused and disoriented in the dark room as her small bed bounced with the weight of another person and strong arms pulled her up into a fierce hug, one she reciprocated before she’d even gotten her bearings. Ghost was still there and would have allowed only a few people to get this close without alerting her. The overhead light finally came on, revealing Ignis as the enthusiastic hugger and her ghost manipulating the light settings.

“Nightfall Strike went well, I take it?” Zeph was relieved to hear her voice somewhat closer to normal, though her throat still hurt, and realized she felt better as well when she felt happy for her obviously ecstatic roommate.

“We kicked its’ ass! You should have been there!” Ignis pulled back finally, and Zeph saw the tell-tale violet spots on her cheeks that indicated that she (and likely Duke as well; she was certain she’d see an equal red flush on his face) had already thoroughly celebrated their victory. Mokir, a non-drinker like her, had probably brought them back as the hour got late. “I’m sorry you couldn’t come along. Are you feeling any better?”

“Much...I’m hungry now,” she answered truthfully. It was the first time she’d felt like eating all day.

“Good! Mokir grabbed you a plate from the bar...I forget what, but he knows what you like. It’s in the common room.”

“I’ll go heat it up,” Ghost promptly volunteered.

“And I’ll make sure Duke didn’t walk off with it,” Ignis’s ghost added.

“Thank you, Ghost,” they both replied at the same time, eliciting their usual shared giggle when they spoke at the same time. Once they were alone Ignis threw her arms around Zeph’s shoulders and moved in so close their foreheads touched. Usually that meant she wanted to share a secret, though not always. Fortunately, Ignis began whispering to her almost immediately.

“Hey...has your Husk changed yet?” Of course...Ignis’s ghost seemed to hate the gun as much as her own did.

“Yeah,” she admitted shyly. Hers had been later to change than Ignis’s, but she’d had it longer and used it far more enthusiastically than Zeph did.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Better than before?” The question was straightforward even for Ignis, causing Zeph to blush a deep red. She could be remarkably straightforward when she’d been drinking but... Then the light clicked on for Zeph. The Nightfall challenge had been Phogoth. There would have been tons of Hive. It seemed the feelings were still the same whether the enemies were real or simulated. Ignis was riding an ecstatic high from more than drink and success. “You know...it feels closer than before. Secretly...I think it’s becoming my friend.”

“Eidolon...Ally...” Zeph whispered the disconnected words, feeling like the brief intimacy between herself and the transformed gun had been ages ago. Her cheeks flushed again in remembrance and embarrassment, but thankfully Ignis didn’t notice much in her state.

“Eidolon Ally? Is that what you’re calling it?” Ignis teased her before giggling. “Well, I’ll use it too. Fair’s fair, right? I did name it the first time. You’re always so mystical, though...”

“Making up for you, as always,” Zeph retorted in their familiar back-and-forth of their personalities matching the opposite class. Duke was a Titan through and through, though.

Two ghosts called them out to the common room, Zeph’s admonishing her to eat and take the second packet of medication and Ignis’s prodding her to sleep off her drinking. Once alone she spared a single uneasy glance at the vault before deliberately concentrating on the food. A ghost of an ally...why did that make her feel both excited and uneasy, even now? Why did Ignis’s whispered confession make her feel even more so? And why...why did she secretly agree?

**Author's Note:**

> I get way too wrapped up in the weapon and armor descriptions and flavor texts, but this one took the cake. I never managed to turn my own Eidolon Ally into Necrochasm...the gun seriously creeped me out that much.
> 
> Duke's complaint is valid, though. While Ignis and I were able to get Husk fairly early in the TDB cycle, Duke wasn't able to get one to drop until after THoW DLC came out and the only way anyone could get one was in the "Fist of Crota" story mission.


End file.
